


The Hobbit and the Wolf

by Sunshine2026



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst, Bilbo saves his arse a lot, Creepy Sauron is creepy, F/M, Fluff, Frodo is little red riding hood, Gandalf is a Matchmaker, I have no regrets, I'll add more tags as it goes on, Let's be honest, M/M, Magic, Rare Ship, Shapeshifting, Slightly bamf Frodo, Slow Burn, Songs, Thorin is Snow White, Werewolves, YOLO, and a troll, and more ships, fairytale AU, like everything i write
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-11-22 15:11:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11382768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sunshine2026/pseuds/Sunshine2026
Summary: Real monsters, are always people who…are just filled with malice, and hatred with no good reason. They hurt others because they wanted to, not because they needed to. They rarely care for others, and if they are pure monsters, at the end of the day even their loved ones cannot stop them.And it hurts.Watching someone you love fall to such evil and anger, and you’ve always tried your best to help them, to let them know they are not alone. That what was Frodo was scared of. Falling for someone who is a true monster and no matter how much you cared for them, and they you, they, at the end of all things will not let you stand in their way, and will hurt you and themselves.That was why Frodo nearly married someone he did not truly love and hid away from his soul mate or his ‘true love’ for 10 more years than he needed to.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ey...Yeah, I ship this. But I saw the prompt for fairytales and I couldn't help myself. And I had to make Thorin snow white. I just had to. Besides, I figured you guys wouldn't judge me too much for this since you're on this website in the first place. As usual, I have no beta so any grammar mistakes are mine. Please tell me if they're any.   
> ANYWHO, ENJOY LUVS!

You know, in general, Frodo was never scared of 'monsters'. You know, the odd beasts that never _quite_ fit into the natural beauty of the earth. In his eyes, they were just like him.

They all hope, fear, hate, and love, just like Frodo and his kind.

But they were never real monsters to him.

Uncle Thorin nearly became a real monster, according to his Uncle Bilbo. But he never really wanted to hurt someone unless they were hurting him or someone he loves first.

Real monsters, are always people who…are just filled with malice, and hatred with no good reason. They hurt others because they wanted to, not because they needed to. They rarely care for others, and if they are pure monsters, at the end of the day even their loved ones cannot stop them.

And it hurts.

Watching someone you love fall to such evil and anger, and you’ve always tried your best to help them, to let them know they are not alone. That what was Frodo was scared of. Falling for someone who is a true monster and no matter how much you cared for them, and they you, they, at the end of all things will not let you stand in their way, and will hurt you and themselves.

That was why Frodo nearly married someone he did not truly love and hid away from his soul mate or his ‘true love’ for 10 more years than he needed to.

 

* * *

 

 

When Frodo was younger, he was a very curious fauntling. Even now, he could never quite get rid of his curiosity no matter how many times its gotten him in trouble.

Though sometimes his uncle would merely laugh at Frodo’s situation whereas other adult hobbits would frown disapprovingly, and scold him. (He was quite lucky that way)

Either way, when he still lived in the country with his parents, he often explored the endless, flowery fields that smelled so sweet and earthy. But if he was daring enough that day, he’d go into the old forest. He crawled every inch of it, and used to pretend he was on magical adventures like he'd read in books. He’d face dangerous dragons, meet beautiful elves, and eventually save the day in these grand stories.

 

One day, he decided to go visit his uncle during an especially chilly winter day. After all, he wasn’t too far and his parents knew Uncle Bilbo would be able to take care of him. His parents practically packed him into thick wool clothes(which were slightly itchy) but the more he moved, the more mobile he was. He bounced to the doorstep before he was stopped by his mother calling his name, and then both his mum and dad proceed to fuss over him.

Frodo stared up happily at his dark-haired mum and said.

“Mum, I’ll be fine! I know the woods like the back of my own hand, and Uncle’s is only an hour away,”

She smiled down at him, dark-brown eyes amused yet slightly worried and she replied.

“I know, my brave boy, but I just want you to be careful, alright?”

Frodo’s father, Drogo took this moment to drop a comment, expanding on his mother’s idea.

“Y-Yes, be careful of strangers and don’t wander off the path!”

He nodded, blue eyes serious, and said.

“I promise I’ll be careful Mum and Dad. I’ll be back in two days. I love you!”

They both smiled fondly, and his mother ran her hand through his raven-colored curls, and murmured that she loved him too.

 

He set off then, picking a less worn path through the snow-covered farmlands.

He smiled softly as he looked around the almost blue landscape; the shadows on the snow fields seemed to reflect the clouds which were dark blueish grey, not letting any warm sunlight through. Now, that Frodo thought of it, he should’ve seen the storm coming but he didn’t. Sure, it did look quite dark but not dark enough to snow or even rain.

Either way, Frodo hummed happily to himself, and even greeted a few of his neighbors as he headed towards the dormant forest.

Once he got to the edge of the forest, he paused staring at the large span of dark, tangled trees. For some odd reason, he had an ominous feeling in his gut today, like something bad was happening or something bad _will_ happen. He gazed at it for a few beats longer before shaking his head at his own silliness and headed in. He walked for a fair amount of minutes, slowly getting unnerved by unusual silence in the forest.

Wind began to pick up, biting Frodo in the face. He almost wanted to turn back but he was more than halfway there so he thought it was best to move forward. In all honesty, he rather liked the talkative noise of the forest and he never liked silence that much. So he decided to break the silence by singing one of the songs he always heard his mother singing.

*“You heard my voice,”

He began to lose himself in thoughts of mystical and magical creatures, and recalled many stories as he sang.

“I came out of the woods by choice, the shelter also gave their shade,

But in dark, I have no name,

So when your hope’s on fire…

He furrowed his brow as he idly thought about the meaning of that lyric. He continued the song; he had a fair voice though it was not heavenly like the elves. He finished that song after that, then another, and then another. He began the fourth song which was a slightly darker yet romantic one. Frodo never enjoyed those cheesy love songs, even when he was young, he always knew love couldn’t possibly be that easy. But this one was…interesting, and well, romantic.

(Later on he turned out to be a bit of romantic though he didn’t like stuff like chocolate and fake things like that. Those things felt a bit silly.)

At the time, he never really understood its meaning but he didn’t care. He sang it in a slower tone than the rest.

*“Wake up, look me in the eyes again,

I need to feel your hand upon my face,

Words can be like knifes,

They can cut you open.

Then the silence surrounds you, and holds you…”

 

He paused then; he could’ve sworn he heard a rustle of something. He stopped walking, snuffing his black boots, and glanced at the grey trees, peering in the shadows. He searched for a minute before shaking his head and continuing both his walk and song, speeding up a bit, partly because the clouds seemed to be growing darker, and partly because he wanted to get out of the creepy woods.

“I think I might’ve inhaled you,

I can feel you behind my eyes...”

He paused again, looking around wildly, feeling certain he had heard something. He looked towards the source of the sound and crept closer and yet did not even put a toe off the snow-covered path, heeding his Father’s words. He called out gently as he could, hoping it was some sort of animal.

“Hello? Is anyone here?...”

Only silence met the young hobbit. He sighed, getting a bit angry at his foolishness at being scared so easily. He took a few steps back to the middle of the path, and started walking forward again.

Snow started falling down, and it was light, feathery as they fell upon his face, but it slowly grew heavier to the point where Frodo could hardly see in front of him. He shivered, and drew his red cloak to his body, trying to stay warm. However, the wind blew heavily, and was nearly knocking Frodo over, let alone trying to tear off his cloak. He knew soon he was going to reach a fork(hopefully) and from there it would be a short distance to his uncle’s house. Through watering eyes, he spotted a rigid, and tall form. He hurried to it as fast as possible, hoping this was the sign he was supposed to look out for.

He neared it and saw something wooden…It is! It is the sign! He walked up to it and attempted to peer up at it but the snow blowing wind covered it so he couldn’t read it clearly. He stood on his toes, squinting to see it, but in the end gave up. He shrugged and tried to recall whether it was left or right.

‘It’s…right, I think. I think.’

So he reluctantly went right, hoping it was really the right pathway.

 

* * *

 

It wasn’t.

He realized that after walking for what felt like a half an hour. He was now shivering uncontrollably, teeth chattering loudly. He decided to turn around, and nearly ran back, clutching on to his thick cloak for dear life.

For him, it probably was.

He felt so tired, and he began crying, feeling scared and miserable yet he still kept walking. He stumbled backwards as a surprisingly strong wind gust nearly knocked him over.

And then another, and stronger, wind gust blew at him and he did fall over.

He went to get up but he felt so tired. His legs sunk into the snow and so did his arms and entire body, really.

His eyes lids grew heavier, and he let out a deep breath, idly watching it fog up in the frigid air. He closed his eyes, deciding to take a little nap, I mean what harm could it possibly do?

 

 

His eyes opened slightly, and he was suddenly aware of a warm presence near him. He could feel himself being dragged across on the crunchy snow. He tried to look up to see what was doing this but he quickly fell asleep again, feeling exhausted.

His eyes opened again, focusing better now (still not great) on the world around and he saw he was now laying on the ground. Everything was blurry but he saw a dark figure hovering over him with bright, glowing eyes. He squinted, and tried to focus his eyes on the figure, and it was…a wolf. He felt confusion wash over him. (He was still too tired to really feel any fear.) He bluntly rasped.

“Why?”

The wolf huffed, its breath fogging up the air, and then leaned down and put its head on Frodo’s chest and whoa, this thing is huge. Frodo tensed up but otherwise, didn’t move. Its head covered the entirety of Frodo’s chest and even then it was still bigger.

But it was comfortably warm and Frodo relaxed, taking in the heat as he laid on the snow. They sat there for a few beats before the wolf pulled its head away suddenly, and Frodo whimpered at the sudden lack of heat.

The wolf glanced down at him, almost amused looking, before bending down to nose Frodo’s nose. Frodo squeaked at the sudden coldness. The wolf then did a weird thing with its chest, heaving like it was laughing. Frodo warmly grinned at it, amused at this almost non-animal like behavior. He also took this moment to observe the wolf; its fur seemed a warm white, the shadows making it look a dark grey, and its eyes were quite orange, and yellow, looking more like a cat's than a wolf's. Then again, Frodo's never been this close to a wolf. They were known for being dangerous, and blood-thirsty, preying on the wandering loners of the night. Yet, this wolf seemed to debunk it all.

Said wolf's ears perked up as if it had heard something, before going flat against the curve of its skull, (looking very annoyed), though this look faded a bit as he gave Frodo an odd look before backing away from Frodo and leaving. Frodo felt slight disappointment in his gut, and tried not to be hurt by it, which was an odd thought. It was a good thing it left though, because then a voice yelled out.

“FRODO!!”

Frodo turned his head towards the voice, wincing as his ear met wet snow, but had no reason to panic as he was suddenly scooped up in his uncle’s arms, being fussed over.

“Oh, I was worried sick when you didn’t show up on time and then it started snowing-are you okay? You’re as cold as death, we need to get you warm right away-“

And so on and so forth. Frodo smiled up at his uncle and curled in a bit closer to him, saying he was fine, and no, he did not have frostbite.(At least he hoped not) But all the while he kept glancing back to the dark woods where his savior disappeared to. But he was not to see him for quite a while.

* * *

 

Frodo stayed there for a few days before returning home to his parents. This time however, he was accompanied by his uncle. They kept up a light chatter but Frodo couldn’t help but continually glance at the mysterious woods. His uncle noticed this and asked.

“Something on your mind, Frodo?”

Frodo stared back at his uncle’s slightly concerned smile. He hesitated before nodding yes. He was afraid he might’ve imagined his rescuer or worse, it was real but no one would believe Frodo. He felt as if he could trust his uncle with this though. He murmured.

“Do know any creatures that live here?”

Bilbo blinked, obviously bemused but nonetheless replied.

“Well, of course! There are squirrels, rabbits, frogs, birds, snails, bugs, foxes…” Frodo smiled and shook his head. He then questioned, a bit more detailed.

“I know that! But what of the wolves? Are there any here?”

Bilbo frowned, his expression full blown worried now.

“Sometimes….I think there are some here but I rarely see them. The only reason I know they’re here is because of their howls,” He paused and furrowed his brow.

“Why do you ask?”

Frodo tore his gaze away from his uncle to stare at the dirt road.

“You have to promise not to laugh at me if I tell you,”

Frodo stared back up at his uncle. Bilbo’s nose twitched but he slowly nodded. He continued.

“That night, when I got stuck in that snowstorm, I-I went down the wrong path, and was trying get back but I fell down and decided to sleep,”

He paused and watched his uncle, feeling nervous. His uncle smiled though it didn’t quite reach his eyes, and nodded to encourage him to tell the rest. So he did.

“A couple of times I woke up and I was being dragged by something but I didn’t know what. The last time I woke up, was when I was in front of your house. I looked up and saw a big wolf. I think it saved me though I don’t know why. But it just put its head on my chest and nosed me. It-was weird. It left just before you found me,”

He finished, and frowned at what he saw. His uncle looked freaked out, eyes wide and concerned, so Frodo made a scared noise at the back of his throat. His uncle jumped and panicked, instantly rushing to reassure Frodo.

“No, no, no, it’s okay, Frodo. It’s just a bit odd that a wolf would do that. Are you sure it was a wolf?”

Frodo nodded seriously, though he doubted if it was really a wolf or if it was real at all. Bilbo sighed, and a sudden thought hit Frodo. Why does his uncle believe him? Most adults would scoff at Frodo and play it off as having an overactive imagination. He voiced his thought.

“Why do you believe me?”

At this, Bilbo smiled warmly and said.

“Because I know you, Frodo. You are not the type to lie, and I sincerely doubt you would just make up a lie like that. Besides, just because you’re a child doesn’t mean you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Frodo gave him a soft grin in return and hugged him, feeling much better now. Bilbo chuckled and hugged him back.

“Now I’ll have to do some research on that, I’ll tell you if I find something,”

Frodo nodded, still clinging to Bilbo.

“You might not want to tell anyone. I suppose you could tell your parents though…”

Frodo pulled away and said.

“Thank you, Uncle!”

Bilbo smiled gently and put his hand on his nephew’s dark curls.

“Anything for you my dear boy.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! I hope you enjoy this chapter and again, no beta, all mistakes are mine. Please notify me if you find any grammar mistakes. Anyways, enjoy!

A few years had passed but Frodo never saw the strange wolf throughout the long years. He even took a few times to explore the woods but it seemed to have disappeared. However, every time he walked in the woods, he always felt like he was being watched and yet…

Frodo’s Mum and Dad died in a boating accident when Frodo was 12. Their death hit him hard and at first, he couldn’t quite believe it. He felt as if they were going come back any moment, his mother smiling at Frodo as she knitted some random sweater, and his father grinning at them while he smoked a bit of old toby. He had to constantly remind himself that they weren’t coming back; never, ever again. It was after the funeral, and when he was sent to temporally live in his mother’s family home, when it really hit him.

It was strange, how he was grieving, and was surrounded by fauntings who were perfectly happy and unbothered. He might’ve wasted away if it wasn’t for his mother’s siblings who seemed almost as sad as him.

Almost.

His aunt comforted him as much she could (she had to keep an eye on the other children who were constantly getting into mischief), always making sure he was fed and he played with the other children. One of his uncles informed of what was going on in the Shire, and he was told him that his Uncle was actually trying to claim custody of him. One evening he fully explained what was going on to young Frodo.

“And he should! But if wasn’t for that blasted Sackville-Baggins, you would be in your proper home by now. It’s a damn joke anyway-“

He cut himself as his wife began glaring disapprovingly at him, simultaneously had flour spotting her body.

Trust her to be scary like that.

His uncle quickly shut himself by grabbing a stale biscuit, and eating it quickly. She merely raised a rounded eyebrow, and opened her mouth to say something when she noticed one of the fauntlings was going to eat something not so healthy.

“NO! DON’T EAT THAT!” She ran off to stop them, her blue dress swirling with the motion, leaving Frodo and her husband staring after her. Said husband waited a moment before continuing as if he was never interrupted.

“Anyway, in Primula’s and Drogo’s will, it _specifically_ said you go to Bilbo. There shouldn’t be any argument about it! But there is, people (mainly Sackvilles) claiming that Bilbo is ‘unfit’ to have ya, just because he doesn’t have any children of his own. But you’ve been over to his house a thousand times, a-and as if she’s any better! You’ve seen how her kid came out! Listen, Frodo,”  


And he did.

“She only wants ya for money, alright? Be careful of people, they might also want you for your money too.”

He then got distracted by another stray fauntling. Frodo looked down at his crossed legs and secretly hoped Bilbo would win custody of him. He didn’t want to live with mean Sackville-Baggins, especially if she really only wanted him for his inherited money.

All in all, he really wanted none of this and his parents back.

In the end, Bilbo managed to adopt Frodo and so he went to live with him.

 

It was surprisingly easy to fall into routine with his Uncle Bilbo. Throughout the years, his grief lessened and his happiness grew. It was strange, living in the lively woods; being further away from the once familiar hobbit holes, but that certainly didn’t mean that Frodo minded! He loved exploring the lush woods, and dipping his feet into the cool streams that laid there. He sincerely loved the fresh smell of the earth, and the cool air. And he loved the changing of the seasons just as much.

Yet even after all those years, he still could never shake the thought of the odd wolf out of his head. Especially as the days grew colder, and the nights shorter and darker. He often caught himself staring out into the darkness of the wood, wondering if they were really real after all. And when the blizzards hit, he’d semi-joke to himself, saying perhaps he should wander off and lay in the snow to see if they would come to his rescue. But he began to play it off to his imagination. Though in his heart, he always wondered.

 

Everything changed once more once Gandalf visited. He visited Bag-End while Frodo hanging out with Sam. He encountered him on the way back to his house and greeted him happily, hugging him.

“Gandalf!”

Gandalf chuckled and hugged him back.

“Hello, my dear Frodo,” Frodo pulled away and grinned. For some odd reason, he felt like there was something…glaring at them. He didn’t know why, but he decided not to focus on it and to focus on his present company. He tucked a stray curl behind his pointy ear, exclaimed.

“You simply must come over for elevenies if it’s not lunchtime already!”

Gandalf blinked before retorting testily.

“I would, if I felt welcome in your home.”

Frodo could feel his frame tense up at this. _He_ felt the staring too? He stammered out.

“W-what do you mean, Gandalf?”

He sighed dramatically, shaking his head and Frodo could feel his eye twitch.

“Well, I went to greet your uncle, but he merely gave me a ‘good morning’ and hid inside his home as soon as he saw me! As if I’m some pest.”

Frodo let a huge breath he didn’t really know he was holding, and merely raised an eyebrow, skeptically stating.

“You didn’t happen to say anything else besides a greeting?”

Gandalf froze, and Frodo had to fight back a sigh. Of course.

“Well, I told your uncle I was um, looking for someone to share an adventure with,”

Frodo choked, gods, he could easily imagine how that went over. He had to stifle a laugh, and he cleared his expression as he noticed Gandalf’s disapproving frown. He cleared his throat, his hand poking out from his red cloak.

“And, uh how did he respond?”

Gandalf replied impatiently.

“Horribly! He merely scoffed at me and ran inside. I’ll change his mind though,”

Frodo raised an eye-brow and crossed his arms.

“Oh?”

Gandalf went on.

“I invited the company he would be traveling with over for supper. I’m sure they can charm him over, especially Oakenshield,”

Gandalf looked rather smug by the end of the sentence. Frodo blinked, shocked and said skeptically. “And Uncle agreed to this?”

Gandalf’s expression faltered, and Frodo groaned.

“Gandalf, Uncle will kill you,”

Gandalf laughed nervously, fingers curling around his staff tighter.

“He will thank me later…”

“ _Gandalf….”_

Gandalf gave Frodo a concerned look.

“However, I must ask you something,”

Frodo’s expression from a look of exasperation to a look of curiosity. He questioned the wizard slowly.

“Like what?”

Gandalf sighed melodramatically.

“Would you let your uncle go if he really wanted to?”

Frodo opened his mouth to reply ‘yes’ but then saw the look on the Gandalf’s face and decided to take a moment to truly ‘deliberate’ it.

Sure, he would be slightly upset if he left, he would miss his uncle after all. But if he did really want to go, well, who was he to stop him? He knew for a fact his uncle was secretly wanting to leave and see the world but he never said a word about leaving. He would never mention to Frodo. Frodo glanced off to the woods off the road, his heart tugged slightly in his chest.

‘Maybe he’ll be happier if he leaves.’

He finally glanced back up at Gandalf and softly said.

“Of course.”

Gandalf smiled back fondly, a grey-sleeved arm reaching out to pat Frodo on his head.

“Always so selfless.”

Frodo smiled back but looked away again as he suddenly felt a pair of eyes focused on him. He shivered, pulling his beloved cloak tighter around him ,and tried to find the source of the unknown eyes. He was stopped in his search when Gandalf suddenly broke the silence.

“You won’t tell him, will you?”

Frodo blinked and said.

“Huh?”

Gandalf only smiled kindly, like a grandfather would, but there was something in his eyes. Fear.

“You won’t tell Bilbo about the dwarves, will you?”

Frodo thinned his lips, debating it before shaking his head no. Knowing his uncle, he would lock all the doors and turn off the lights to pretend no one’s home. Frodo was sincerely curious about the dwarves and their mysterious quest. Frodo went to question him about it, but Gandalf laughed before exclaiming.

“Well, I must be on my way. I will see you tonight.”

At this, he winked before turning to walk the down the dirt road. Frodo shook his head, amused. He turned the other way but before he walked home, he paused and cocked his head towards the tangle of trees. He stared out for a few beats before grinning and teasing.

“You really didn’t like him, didn’t you?”

He then laughed at his own silliness; he had to stop being so paranoid. He was literally talking to himself. He went off, singing to himself, using the same song he used when he nearly froze to death. Just for the heck of it.

‘I’m insane.’

…

Later on, Frodo was chatting with his uncle in the dining room, eating fried fish for dinner when suddenly a loud knock was sounded. They both gave each other confused looks; only one was faked. Bilbo gave Frodo a look before he rushed off to answer the door. Frodo sat there for a moment before getting up after him, curious. He watched as his pajama clad Uncle opened the door to rather intimidating looking dwarf who rather marched in rudely and began eating their dinner.

He was the first of many.

Soon all of them crowded into the small cottage and soon Uncle Bilbo was five seconds away from murdering all twelve dwarves. (Frodo snuck a few biscuits and hid them in his room so the dwarves couldn’t eat _all_ the food. He told his uncle this and the relived look he got made him snicker)

And then _Thorin_ came. In all honesty, he was exactly his Uncle’s type. He raised his eye-brows and glanced up at Gandalf who gave an amused smile in return.

_Oh._

That’s why Gandalf wanted Bilbo to meet the dwarves. _Wow._

‘At least one of the reasons.’

Frodo glanced back at his uncle, eyebrows still raised. He saw his uncle gulp and blush and Frodo didn’t know whether to be happy or concerned. And then Thorin opened his mouth and insulted his Uncle and that was that. Frodo felt slightly relived although angry at the dwarf who dared to insult his uncle like that.

Then again, all the dwarves seem to lack manners.

Gandalf then introduced Frodo to Thorin. Frodo responded to him coldly, not liking him at all. The dark-haired dwarf blinked and responded almost as rudely as he was to his uncle albeit hesitantly. Frodo merely stared at him, letting him know he was not welcome and kept eye contact as he walked in, sitting at the head of the table. Frodo scowled and made eye contact with his uncle, who gave him ‘I know’ look.

After an epic speech later, someone (Balin, Frodo’s thinks but they keep calling him ‘Scholar’) hands his Uncle a contact. Frodo’s stomach tightened, and wow, he was really considering this. Bilbo glanced up at Frodo who was leaning against a doorway in another room. He gave Frodo a quick smile, as if to reassure him and Frodo smiles back though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

Oh, to be fair though the dragon part was hilarious, in retrospect. Frodo’s ears perked up as he heard his uncle read aloud ‘dragon?’ The only thought running through Frodo’s mind was.

‘There’s a _dragon?’_

Of course it made Frodo vastly concerned for his uncle but this time his curiosity seemed to compete with his fear. And, then his uncle fainted.

 

In the end his uncle said no, and Frodo felt relived and yet…Disappointed. He didn’t know why, he just was. (It didn’t help that some of the dwarves were glaring as if it was his fault, so he felt guilty though he knew logically it couldn’t be his fault…could it?) They both fell asleep to the deep voices of the dwarves singing, and Frodo began humming quietly with them, figuring out the beat after a few verses. He secretly wanted to stay up, just to listen to them even if it meant he would be tired in the morning. But he didn’t have to worry, as the verses were…comforting and they lulled them to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor baby Frodo. I feel so bad for him about that. At least he got to meet dwarves, even if they were crazy rude! Anyways, I hoped you enjoyed and if ya did, please leave kudos!

**Author's Note:**

> *1st song is Hopeless Wanderer by Mumford and Sons, and the 2nd song is Bloodstream by Stateless.(One of my faves)   
> I hoped you guys enjoyed reading this as I did writing this! :D


End file.
